


Practice

by HeyYahtzee



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Floof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyYahtzee/pseuds/HeyYahtzee
Summary: Beau and Jester have a little run in with a brothel. Beau has a tiny emotional meltdown. Jester is the most supportive asshole.





	Practice

She should be able to relax her fucking shoulders.

They’re walking in the dark and winding streets of some coastal city. Fjord and Caleb are leading the way, followed closely by Nott, followed by Molly and Jester, with Beau bringing up the rear. They’ve just finished getting the shit beat out of them by a metric fuckton of Wyverns that have been picking people off the streets. One Wyvern dive bombing a poor little girl in the moonlight had turned into full blown Whack-A-Wyvern after Beau punched it in the face.

Fucking pack animals.

But hey, Wyverns are Wyverns. They aren’t the least or the most type of thing Beau has ever punched in the face. In fact, she _wishes_ it was the Wyverns that had her wound up. She could just punch another one.

She’s a monk, right? _She should be able to relax her fucking shoulders!_

Instead, halfway through the fight, she’d grabbed Jester from behind and yanked her out of the gaping jaws of a particularly nasty Wyvern and both of them had gotten batted into the extreme outfield by a wayward tail. More specifically, through an open window and into a brothel.

At which point Jester rolled over, straddling Beau, and said “Wow! Just like home!”

And holy shit Beau has so many questions. Questions she can _never ask._ Every muscle in her body is rising right out of her skin but there’s no way she can open her mouth to Jester about growing up in a god damn _brothel._

_She’s still getting used to the fact that JESTER GREW UP IN A BROTHEL._

“Awful quiet back there, kid,” Fjord says.

Beau blinks. Everyone is staring at her.

“Sorry, what?” she asks, hands tightening around her staff.

“We were trying to decide if we should go to the tavern before we return to the inn for sleeping,” Caleb pipes up.

“I mean, whatever,” Beau says, forcing her shoulders down and throwing in a staff twirl for good measure.

“Tavern!” Jester shouts, smile blinding. She bolts down the street to the soft lights and heavy scents of the nearest tavern, Nott and Molly close on her heels. Beau trails along behind Fjord and Caleb, eyeing Fjord back when he turns and gives her his patented Big Brother Look.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he says.

“I’ve seen what you do,” she replies.

Fjord shrugs, “Fair.”

Enough people are in the tavern that Beau can slink into a table in the back and “reserve” it for the rest of the gang. The air is heavy with the smell of ale and deep, dark liquors. Fried Meats. Oil and smoke.

There’d been two girls sitting on a chaise lounge in the room they’d fallen into. Practically naked and looking at them curiously. Jester had waved at them and complimented their expensive looking jewelry. It’d felt like forever before she got up and leapt back out the window. It took Beau even longer to realize the hot handprints on her stomach were from a fresh cure wounds spell, and that the cuts along her arm and face had been healed.

Took so long Jester’s touch was almost a memory.

And now she’s standing at the bar ordering food and drink for a little post-battle celebration, blue and white dress swirling around her legs as she turns from Molly to Caleb to Fjord to Molly over and over in excited chatter. The silver caps on her horns and tail flash in the low light of the tavern lanterns like her own personal silver lining.

Beau’s shoulders relax, her lips parting in a soft smile.

Jester turns and sees Beau, pointing in her direction as Fjord lifts a tray of drinks from the bar. Their eyes meet for just a moment, and Jester grins, waving enthusiastically. Beau raises her hand and tilts it back and forth a little, which makes Jester laugh. Then Fjord is standing next to her and looking at the table and Beau freezes, her hand falling back down to the table as she stares at a tiny divet in the wood. Oh gods, what is she _doing_.

Beau’s head hits the table as she groans heavily.

“Beau! Are you still hurt?! Here, let me see, let me see!”

Jester slides onto the bench next to Beau and prods at her with the tips of her fingers. Beau swats at her.

“I’m fine!” she hisses, “Just tired.”

“Up all night to get punchy is actually tired?” Molly asks, appearing out of the crowd with Nott and Caleb behind him.

“Shut up,” she says, crossing her arms around her face. Heat creeps up her neck and fills her cheeks. She can feel them all staring, most likely bemused at her stupid little tantrum.

Why can’t she just have emotions like a normal person?

“Beau?” Fjord asks, his tone even.

“I’m going to bed,” Beau says. She scoots past Jester and grabs her pack from under the table.

Thankfully, no one calls after her.

Out on the street, Beau inhales the cool, clear air and wanders the quarter mile back to their rooms at the Blue Star Inn. The innkeep is the only one downstairs, cleaning up from the dinner the gang had missed. They give Beau a hearty side eye but mind their business. The rooms they’d gotten are at the back of the house, squished between the kitchen and the stables, and Beau passes through without a sound.

The room she shares with Jester is small, with two down mattresses on opposite ends of the floor. Beau flops down on the one below the window and stares out at the night sky. For weeks now she’s been ducking Jester’s conversations and questions, keeping mostly to herself, even making small talk with Molly to avoid any alone time they might have together. Over the last few months they’d really come together, y’know? The whole group. Like a little family.

But one little slip. A gaze held too long or a lingering touch and suddenly Jester’s eyes would go wide the way they had when she’d learned about that asshole banker’s extramarital affair last week and the casual closeness they’d all enjoyed would slowly turn into awkward glances over the breakfast table and long periods of silence.

Or alternatively, they fall in together, start something. Soft, happy, kisses and late nights talking about whatever ridiculously beautiful thing Jester comes up with next. Hand-holding. Whatever other gross stuff couples do.

But that would be worse, right? Because Beau always ends up walking out; out of rooms, out of bars, out of warehouses and the Cobalt Reserve. She’s a piece of shit and Jester deserves better, deserves someone who has their shit figured out. And how could she walk out on Jester and stay a part of family? She’d lose everything.

And then they’d fallen into that brothel and it had crystallized in front of her like a moth on a lantern. Jester had experience. She knew all about…. sex and intimacy. Way more. A shiver of anxiety runs up Beau’s spine. She’d never even kissed anyone, never cuddled under a blanket or gone on a date. But Jester most likely had expectations. Needs. And if their day had been any indication, sex was no big deal to her.

Beau’s just not ready for that yet.

The door to the room creaks open and Jester slips in as silent as a breeze. Her footsteps move across the floor to the other, empty mattress and then there’s a rustling as she sits down and begins taking off her boots. Beau counts the stars she can see outside to keep herself from turning and looking. Her heart is beating so hard in her chest she can hardly breathe and she can feel the hot spark of defensive anger and sarcasm already pulsing beneath her skin.

“You know, I am very wise,” Jester says.

Silence.

“You are obviously very bothered by something, Beau. It is no use trying to hide it from us. You look like someone gave you a wedgie, you know, like a bad one. That’s not what happened is it? Wedgies are pretty easy to fix I mean I remember this one time-”

“No, Jester,” Beau says, a little louder than she means to.

“Oh, then what is it? I am the most trustworthy, you can tell me anything!”

Beau takes a deep breath and does her best to smile, “It’s nothing. Just sore.”

Jester narrows her eyes, “Is it a boy? Is it a girl? Is it your parents? Is it your intestines? Are you dying? Are you-”

“You grew up in a brothel?” Beau asks, finally looking at Jester with a blank stare.

“I- yes!” Jester wrinkles up her nose. “Is that what you are upset about? It is just a brothel. There were like, a mil-li-on in Nicodranus because so many people go there just to party and get laaaiiiid. I used to walk by four or five just on my way to the store!”

“Uuuuuuuuugh I’m not upset!” Beau groans, “I was just surprised!”

“Oooooooh,” Jester says eyes crinkling as she smiles wide, “Well now you know!”

“Yeah, uh...” Beau licks her lips, “What was that like, I mean, did you like…”

Anything to keep Jester talking and _not asking questions about girl problems holy shit._

Jester laughs loudly, her jewelry jingling as she shakes her head, “Oh Beau, I did not work there! My mother is the owner. She never let me anywhere near the sex or the customers or anything else. I mostly stayed in our apartment upstairs and drew the things I could see out my window! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wanted to work there, but she always said that I was made for other kinds of work. That and some of the customers were very disgusting.”

“So you never…. saw the people working for your mother?” Beau wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, trying her best to seem laid back and casual in the face of total annihilation.

“Pffft. Oh I saw them all right. Once when I was 14 I hid in a wardrobe and watched my friend Odetta give this greasy politician a blowjob. It made sense why she had so much money all the time,” Jester muses, “I slept with her when I was older, though. It was amazing! She knew how to do everything and she didn’t even make me give her my money because she kind of had a thing for me, you know! And then my mother told me to get a job and I left to find my dad. Oh well.”

And then she looks at Beau, whose mouth is half open, eyes wide with longing and horrified embarrassment.

“Oh. My. _Gosh_. Look at you, you are all red!”

Beau rolls over at the speed of light and shoves a pillow over her face.

“Is that why you asked? You wanted to know if I know any pretty girls?” Jester snickers, nudging Beau with her foot.

Beau curls inward and presses the pillow even harder over her face.

“Aw, Beau! You do not need to be embarrassed! I am very good at keeping secrets and I will not tell anyone that you were curious about the sexy sexy ladies at the brothel.”

“Oh my gods, I don’t care!” Beau yells, muffled by the pillow.

“I don’t know…. you are awfully pink for not caring!” Jester teases.

Beau pulls the pillow away from her face and sits up, “I. Don't. Fucking. Care.”

She stands and walks to the other side of the room, digging in her pack for the healing balm for her knuckles. Jester deflates, her tail drooping onto the mattress.

Silence.

“I know.”

Beau looks at Jester out of the corner of her eye, still scowling, “What?”

“I know you don’t care, Beau.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Pause.

“And I know that it hurts you,” Jester says softly.

Beau rips the wraps off her hands and starts applying the balm. She presses too hard and winces.

Jester sighs, stands, and approaches Beau with a quiet fortitude Beau has only witnessed a handful of times. The balm is snatched from her hand and then soft fingers take her wrist and turn it to show the cracks along her knuckles where the skin is red and bruised.

“You have a shit attitude, you know. But I am your friend,” Jester grumbles, “And I will not watch you do sloppy work when I could do it better.”

Beau looks the other way, her jaw locked and muscle tensed.

“As I was saying, I know you do not care. But I think you want to care. You want to help people and fix things, because that is what you do when we are helping people. Only it hurts because your parents are giant kraken hemorrhoids who never let you care about anything but bad things and hurting other people. So you do not know how to care about good things or how to feel safe. So you cannot care yet, and it hurts you.”

Jester finishes Beau’s second hand, lets it go, and steps back, “That’s all!”

Silence.

“I’ve never been kissed,” Beau says.

Jester’s eyes go wide, “Like never ever???”

Beau shakes her head.

“Should we go back to that brothel? I can probably get you a deal.”

“No, Jester. That’s not… It just pisses me off cause everyone else knows what they’re doing and I never got to…” she waves her hands around vaguely, “I was always working for the family business or screwing around with the wrong kind of people. People I hung out with _because_ I didn’t trust them. Cause that’s what I knew.”

“Ooooooh, I see, you are worried you will be made fun of by pretty girls because you do not know how to kiss?”

“Uh, sure,” Beau says, slipping by Jester to return to her mattress.

“Well, they would be stupid to make fun of you if instead they could be kissing you. But I can show you how to kiss! I have seen a lot of them,” Jester says.

“I, uh, that’s… um.”

“What? It will help you be not worried I promise!”

“I just, uh….”

Jester tilts her head to the side, “Do you think I am unattractive? You do not want to kiss me?”

“No!” Beau blurts out, “that’s not what I’m trying to say, fuck, I’m….. trying to be more…..”

She gestures helplessly.

“Well, you can not get more chaste that just does not work,” Jester says, “You are like the most chaste already.”

Beau shakes her head, “No, like, honest?”

Jester frowns in confusion and sits next to Beau on her mattress, “Are you being dishonest?”

“Not… exactly? I just… I couldn’t… _practice_ …. with you… and…”

Beau looks up at Jester, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Oh,” Jester says, “Oh.”

Silence. Beau looks back down at her hands. She bites her lip so hard it starts to go numb.

“I thought you were not interested,” Jester says.

Beau’s head snaps up, “ _What_?”

“Well I flirted with you and you did not do anything so I just figured you were not interested!” Jester explains.

“You flirted with me?” Beau asks, “When?”

“Oh man, like so many times, like when I told you I liked your fighting and that time you brought me more doughnuts and I said I wanted you to stay forever… oh! Or that time I told you that your abs are hot!”

Beau’s mouth drops open, “I thought you were just… saying shit because that’s what you do! You tell Fjord he’s handsome all the time!”

“Well, yes, because he is. And he is so bashful and I like making him blush because his cheeks turn blue. Also I like making people feel happy and you all are so uptight all the time!”

“I don’t know how to even…. Okay?” Beau says.

“Okay you like me?” Jester asks.

“I….” Beau blushes again and looks away.

“Beau… you are still embarrassed? But we are on the same page, like Caleb says!” Jester says.

“I’m not… I can’t be what you want.”

Jester frowns again, “What do you mean? You _are_ what I want.”

“But I don’t know how to do this and you deserve someone who does, who can be a good girlfriend.”

Silence.

“Can I hold your hand?” Jester asks.

Beau stares at the floor, then nods slowly. Jester’s soft, warm hand slips into her own and squeezes lightly.

“I don’t care about any of that, you know. We can be slow. We do not even have to be girlfriends yet. We can be what we are and that will be that. And we will talk and learn and we will be okay. We have lots of years to figure it out, anyway.”

Beau cracks a smile, “Lots of years?”

“So many years, Beau,” Jester says with a grin, “Whatever we are.”

“You know, you’re one wise son of a bitch.”

“Yes,” Jester laughs, “I am very wise.”

Beau leans into Jester, carefully squeezing her hand and running her thumb over the back of Jester’s hand. She feels Jester relax into her, tail winding around to rest gently on her other hip.

“Kiss me?” Beau asks.

Jester bites her lip and puts her hand on Beau’s jaw, bringing her closer and then tilting her head so that their lips brush, then press together. It only lasts a few moments, and then Jester pulls back and strokes Beau’s cheek.

“Now what?” she asks.

“Do you want to maybe… cuddle with me?” Beau asks.

“I love cuddling!” Jester squeals excitedly. In seconds she’s running around the room, taking the pillows and blankets off of her mattress and throwing them on Beau’s, stripping out of her dress and pulling Beau out of her boots and vest when she offers them. Beau gives in to her, allowing Jester to wriggle into her bed and then pull her down, too.

With her head against Jester’s chest and a hand running through her hair, Beau closes her eyes and sighs deeply.

“Thank you,” she says.

“For what?” Jester asks.

“For understanding.”

“Always,” Jester promises, and she presses a soft kiss to Beau’s forehead.

Beau’s last conscious thought is of soft lips against her skin and gentle fingers massaging into her skull, legs tangled with her own, and a deep, heavy sense of peace.


End file.
